Two poems


From a blindfold of lips,
every particular touch
is as hurting is to grass.

On these nights, your fingers
almost sensibly
set their ask to air –

almost regrettably,
tease the lotus notion of passing, not
skin to skin

or such heat
but taking a route,
rendering the half- opened flower of the mouth

something harder,
Only moments at a time

does the singing note
of my spine
rise organically;

rise again
like a snake between the eyes –
So you are fortunate

to graze the map of my thigh
but sink hard in the head.
Make a woman

instead of some lying leaf.
Or totem of grief.

First published ‘The Ofi Press’ January 2017

This poem, together with ‘Anvil’ have been published in Mexican journal The Ofi Press. You can read them here.

Both poems are from my new (working) collection ‘Unable Mother’. Don’t forget, I’ll be performing from this at Birmingham’s new exciting festival for poetry Verve, alongside Geraldine Clarkson (a favourite of mine) and two promising spoken word artists.


Join us, 16th-19th February at the new Waterstones in Brum. To find out more about Podium Poets (and why you should come!) read this blog post by none other than Stuart Bartholomew: PODIUM POETS.